Never Alone
by StaroftheBlackRose
Summary: She reminds him so much of the one he lost--and he hates her for it. So why can't he quit thinking about her? Of course, she might also be exactly what he needs to get the upper hand in this war. Griffin/OC
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

_Jack_

So maybe I should start off telling you a little about myself. My name's Jack—well, Jacklynn, but I hate that name. I'm nineteen years old, with a rather unfortunate—meaning virtually non-existent—romantic history. I'm a pretty average girl, really, if you think about it. I have had a boyfriend before, and I lost my virginity to him just before he dumped me on my ass. I guess he'd gotten what he wanted out of me by then; I haven't trusted guys since. Of course, I don't really trust anyone, not anymore. I can't, if I want to stay alive. It wasn't always like this—living on the run, robbing banks for enough money to survive, never in one place for more than a few days. I used to live a perfectly normal life, but that all changed five years ago.

And oh, yeah; I'm a Jumper. I have been my whole life, but it wasn't an issue until _they_ found me. I was lucky enough to survive and escape—my parents and little brother weren't. Don't pay any attention to their high ideals or them saying they're working for God or whatever. They're monsters, plain and simple, and if it weren't for them, I wouldn't have been forced into this kind of life. But I was, and I can't change that; all I can do is run, and keep running, and hope that I can manage to stay one Jump ahead of 'em. I have to live like this, because if I stop running for a second, and they catch up to me, I'm dead.

I guess I'm the next step in the evolutionary ladder. First there were people, and prejudice and hate. Then the Jumpers appeared, centuries ago, and the Paladins started hunting them. When electricity was discovered, it was found to be the most—and only—effective weapon against Jumpers, keeping them from Jumping long enough to kill them. But I was born with an immunity to electricity—or maybe I wasn't born with it. Maybe it was the fact that I survived getting struck by lightning when I was five years old, if I didn't have the immunity already. Whatever it is, my body isn't affected by your average thousand volts. It tickles, actually. The problem is, I'm not without a major weakness—oh, no, that would be way too easy. Because my body stores electricity indefinitely, water shorts me out big time. It's only a matter of time before the Paladin's figure that out, and when they do, I'm even more fucked.

I used to think I was the only one, too. And then I met him…


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: The last chapter was way short, I realize, but it was more of an introduction than an actual chapter. Also, as you'll probably realize, chapters from Giffin's POV are in third person, and ones from Jack's are in first. It's a new style I'm giving a test run.**

**BTW: Griffin is twenty-four, and Jack's nineteen, in case anyone missed that. In my personal opinion, it isn't too big of an age gap, since Jack's a legal adult.**

Chapter Two

_Griffin_

Griffin was pissed at David—nothing new. In fact, 'pissed' is something of an understatement. They were _supposed_ to be planning another strike at the Paladins—with Roland dead, there was a new head honcho attempting to fill his shoes, and while this one wasn't even close to as dangerous as Roland had been, he was catching up quickly. But no, David didn't care that this was their imminent demise they were trying to prevent; he was out on a _date_. With his little girlfriend. There were some times when Griffin wished that he'd been able to blow Roland to high heaven like he'd wanted to, before David got in the way—a fact which Griffin had taken a year to get over and agree to work with him again. It wasn't that he had anything _personal_ against Millie, not exactly; and he'd never admit to being jealous, not in a million years. But she was the wrench in the works—it was almost impossible to get David to do anything productive with her around. Still, she was around, and Griffin couldn't change that, damn his luck. More often, he wished that he didn't need David's help, but that was another thing he couldn't change, and this made him more angry than anything else. For eighteen _years_ he'd been killing Paladins all on his own, no help required. But then they got smart.

The young Jumper growled to himself, kicking a wall of his lair—the cave, as David liked to call it, though rarely within Griffin's ear-shot. "I need to get outta here for a while, before I go mad," he told himself out loud, his voice carrying a thick, North England accent. So he Jumped to one of his favorite Jumpsites in London—but when he landed, he was in a completely unrecognizable apartment. And judging by the soccer poster on one of the walls, and the time, he guessed it was in America.

At the same time as Griffin had been Jumping to London, Jack had decided to take a night on the town. One of her most-frequented 'fun' Jump-sites was in front of a bar in London—where they had no stupid twenty-one drinking age. Jack didn't even need an ID to get in; with her height and figure, and young woman appearance (especially when she wore make-up), she had no trouble passing for well over twenty-one anyway, but London bars were more fun. Besides, a London accent on a guy was to die for. But when she Jumped, she was nowhere near the London bar—in fact, she thought it was a cave, though it was crammed with enough stuff that someone obviously lived here.

"What the bloody hell are you doin' here?!" she heard someone shout; Jaq whirled around, her short, died-black hair flipping into her face. She froze, her dark green eyes wide—she hadn't messed up a Jump in nearly six years, since she'd finally gotten the hang of it. _What went wrong?_ she couldn't help but wonder, and was struck speechless—a very rare occurrence.

This was just great. First David had to skip out, and then this strange girl mucked up his Jump—make that strange, half-naked girl. Griffin did a double take. _No, it can't be…_ he thought, shaking his head and looking again. _She looks just like Susanne. But she isn't, Annie died five years ago… _Besides, he knew that his Annie would never have dressed that way. This girl looked like a tramp ready to make the rounds of a few bars. She wore a black shirt that amounted to little more than a sports bra without straps—or maybe they were clear, he thought he could see them when he looked closer. Over that, she had a black, off-the-shoulder sweater, if it could be called that; it seemed to be more decorative than anything, and completely see-through. As for pants, she was wearing full-length jeans (black) to her credit, but they were incredibly low cut and tight. He was amazed that she could even move in them—and her stiletto heels only astounded him more.

Griffin realized he was staring, but it had taken only a few seconds to take in all those details, and he made a quick recovery. "I _said_, what the fuck are you doin' here?" he demanded again, taking a step closer and looking anywhere but her eyes. Those were what had thrown him the most—they were so deep a green they nearly looked black in the dim lighting of his lair, and big, almost doe-like. _So like hers… No, Griffin, quit thinking about Annie, she's dead! This girl isn't her; no girl every will be, so get used to it!_

Jack had no idea what was going on in Griffin's head—outwardly, he gave no sign of anything but pure anger, and given the table of knives within his reach, the young woman thought it prudent to snap her mouth shut and answer. "Uhm… I'm not sure…" she said, trying hard not to stutter. She couldn't help but think, _Did he see me Jump? Is he a Paladin? Oh shit…_

"How can ya not be sure?" Griffin asked, restraining the urge to grab the nearest knife and hurl it at her. He knew she wasn't a Paladin—he was positive she had Jumped. He was pretty sure he knew what had happened, too, and equally sure that she had no clue—but he didn't know for certain.

_Oh Hell, if he's a Paladin I'm fucked anyway. What do I have to lose? _"I… I really don't know," she muttered, shaking her head. "I kind've… just appeared here…"

Griffin laughed aloud—the startled expression on the woman's face almost made him laugh even harded. "I know ya Jumped, you idiot."

_Fuck._

Then, Griffin disappeared right before her eyes. Jack heard the sound of a mini-fridge opening and closing, and she turned around slowly—he was there, opening a beer. "Did… did you just Jump?" Jack asked, in a tone of disbelief. All these years she'd thought she was the only one.

Griffin only laughed again, and definitely not in a pleasant manner. "You're another one, eh? Thought you were the only one, didn't ya?"

"Well… yeah," Jack replied after a moment's pause. "Why should I have thought otherwise? I've never seen another one of… us. How many are there, anyway?"

"Used to be thousands," Griffin said, taking a swig of his beer. "'Til the Paladins started gettin' to 'em. Now there're probably less than a hundred left. Impossible to tell exactly, of course…" He stopped speaking rather abruptly. He was never this open with people, especially when he didn't know them. Annie had been different, but this girl _wasn't _her. She just looked so damn similar that it messed with his head. "What's yer name anyway, kid?" he asked. Of course, she looked nothing like a kid, but there was no way in Hell he'd admit to it. Griffin had sworn off women when Annie died. Letting people get close to you only put them in danger, and it only gave the Paladins one more weapon to use against you. Still, he couldn't help thinking she was hot. But she was probably so riddled with STDs it wouldn't be worth the risk anyhow—judging by her clothes, at least.

"I'm Jack," she replied after a second's thought. It wasn't her whole name, and he wasn't a Paladin so it didn't really matter.

Griffin snorted softly. "Jack? Isn't that a boy's name?" he asked with a smirk.

"So, what of it? You got a better one?" Jack retorted.

"I'm Griffin."

"Oh, and being named after a magical bird is _so_ much better."

"Touche."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm churning these out faster than expected, but if it starts taking longer for new chapters, blame it on college. Anyway, R&R'ing is much, much appreciated. I'd love feedback, so I can tell how to make my story better!**

**Oh, and I realize there are several typos in my last chapters, but I'm too lazy to go in an fix them. If it **_**really**_** bothers anyone, I might, but it shouldn't be too big a deal.**

Chapter Three

_Jack_

"So… how exactly did this happen?" I asked, glancing around at the surrounding cave. "I know I didn't jump here on purpose." I also had a feeling Griffin knew—he had that smug look on his face that guys tended to wear when they knew something you didn't.

"Let me guess; you were tryin' to Jump to a bar in London, yeah?" It was less a question than a statement, but I nodded. "Figured. I was too. My guess is, we were Jumping to the same place at the same time, and went through each other's Jump scars. Ain't really heard of it before, but that's the only explanation. I wound up in your apartment."

It probably bothered me that he'd seen my apartment (small and temporary though it is) for the same reason he'd been bothered by my presence here. But judging by how quickly he'd Jumped here to shout at me, he hadn't gotten more than a cursory glance, so it wasn't really a problem. Besides, I didn't _think_ I'd left any of my underwear lying around. I realized he had started talking again, and tuned in.

"So, now that you've got your explanation, you can fuck off now." Griffin Jumped, and I turned again, watching as he appeared on his couch, picking up a video game controller.

"That's it?" I asked, wondering why I was getting the brush off.

"What's it?" he replied, his eyes glued to his television screen.

Shaking my head when a sigh, I walked over to where he was sitting (I liked walking occasionally, it made me feel like less of a freak), and sat beside him on the couch—keeping as much distance between us as I could. "You're just gonna tell me to shove off without the courtesy of explaining some of this stuff to me?"

"I already told you what you wanted to know. And yeah, that's the plan." Was it just me, or did he seem to be completely deliberately _not_ looking at me? I mentally shook my head—I must be getting paranoid.

I shook my head. "Look, I don't want much out of you, Birdie," I said—I'm not usually the confrontational type, but Griffin's attitude was _really_ starting to get my back up, "but I've never seen anyone else like me before. I don't know who those people are," I pointed to the wall, upon which I could see several pictures of men (and a few women), some of whom had tried to kill me, "and I don't know why I've been having to run for my life since I was twelve. So I'm sorry if I thought you had the answers." Here was where I got to my master stroke—I only hoped that his ego matched his attitude problem. "I guess I was wrong to think you can help me. You're probably as lost about all this as I am." I stood as though I were about to jump, trying not to be too obvious about stalling; I needn't have worried.

"Wait," he said, with a heavy sigh as he put down his game controller and turned to look at me. Or rather, look _near_ me. His eyes seemed to be focused just over my left shoulder, unless I was imagining things; which, I admit, was quite likely. "I can help ya—if you promise to leave me alone after. I can probably teach you how to fight 'em off, too, if only so you don't die as quickly. They've already gotten to too many of us."

"Your vote of confidence is overwhelming," I said dryly; holding my tongue was never my strong suit. "I've managed to survive for seven years, when I was positive I was alone."

Griffin shrugged and turned back to his TV. "Fine then, I guess you don't need me after all."

Well shit. Open foot, insert mouth. I hated apologizing, but I didn't want to miss this opportunity, either. "I'm… sorry. It's just a little shocking for me, is all," I replied, swallowing the repertoire of insults and retorts in favor of not cutting off my nose to spite my face, for once.

Griffin smirked at me, but thankfully didn't rescind his offer of help. "I've got one word for your survival rate up to now—pure, dumb luck."

"That's three words—"

"Whatever, you know what I mean," he said, cutting me off, though I thought I saw amusement pass through his eyes (which still refused to meet mine; call me crazy, but I'm an eye-contact kinda person—I like feeling that the person I'm speaking with is actually paying attention, y'know?). "You've been lucky," he continued, "but that won't last forever. Sooner or later, you'll be in a real battle, and you'll be taken down in five seconds, if you don't know how to fight them."

"Even if their electricity doesn't really affect me?" I asked, honestly curious. I knew that they had other weapons at their disposal, but the one time I'd been attacked, the first thing thrown at me was their electric rope. It stabbed into me and hurt, but the electricity didn't affect me at all, except tickle a little, and I Jumped away without any trouble. I was twelve at the time, and had just seen my family killed, but I'd been Jumping since I was five, and had tons of Jump sites all over the country. I Jumped all around America before settling in an unoccupied penthouse in New York. I haven't had a steady home since.

I hadn't thought there was much I could say that would startle a man like Griffin, but what I'd said obviously had done so. His eyes widened slightly, and, almost as though forgetting himself, he looked me directly in the eye. The contact didn't last long, but I thought I saw pain flicker in the depths of his eyes, before he glanced away, again looking just over my shoulder. I decided I'd been imagining things. "It… doesn't affect you?" he asked, plainly surprised.

I shrugged. "Not really. It tickles a little, but that's about it. The stab itself hurts," I added on reflection, "but it doesn't keep me from Jumping." I almost spilled the fact that I couldn't even be out in the rain without my body going haywire, but I didn't know this man, even if I thought I needed his help. I wasn't ready to trust him with something that could destroy me.

The bastard guessed anyway. "What about water?" he asked, and while I didn't respond, he apparently saw the answer written on my face; I inwardly cursed the expressive dark green eyes I'd inherited from my mother. "Thought as much. Haven't seen one of you in a long time; last guy I knew got dunked trying to Jump a Paladin into the Pacific and couldn't jump out again. Poor guy died." Eugh. I hadn't thought about it like that before. So just how, exactly, was I supposed to get the upper hand here? Especially if the Paladins found out about my fatal weakness. Once again, Griffin seemed to know what was on my mind. "If you're careful, it'll take the Paladins a long time to find out. They will eventually—like they figured out about using electricity against us in the first place—but until then, you'll be able to take a lot of 'em down. And once they do find out, they'll have to figure how to make water guns with enough force to take you down, or how to force you to Jump into a lake. You're fairly safe—for now. But they'll realize—probably already have, in fact—that electricity won't work on you, so they'll bring normal artillery along. You'll have to learn to fight 'em if you want to survive your next meeting with 'em."

Wow. I hadn't pegged Griffin for the speech-giving type, but I kept my mouth shut this time. I didn't want him to clam up on me. "So… what will you teach me?" I asked instead.

"First, the quarter-staff," he replied, pointing at a long, heavy stick in one—could it really be called a corner?—of his cave. "I'll find ya another one. Very effective for Jumping and landing painful, injure-inducing hits."

I snorted; I doubted that Griffin would be able to teach me anything there. "I already know how to fight with a staff," I informed him, pride in every aspect of my tone and stature. I'd taken lessons as a kid, and continued them under a false name when I had to leave home.

The smirk on Griffin's face unnerved me slightly. "We'll see about that. Come back tomorrow. Not too early, mind; if I'm asleep and you wake me up, I'm as apt to take your head off as look at you."

"I'll be there." I tried to sound sure of myself, but I couldn't help but wonder, as I Jumped back to my current apartment, just what he had up his sleeve.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Ok, so, I got several questions in one of the reviews, so I thought I'd answer 'em. Yes, David's going to appear. And I imagine Jack would be fine in a very light rain, or if she had an umbrella, but if water touches over a quarter of the surface area of her body (on the outside) she'll go haywire. And yes, she can drink water just fine, because the human body is mostly water anyway. In order for water to draw out the electricity within her body, it has to be touching her skin, and connecting with the outside atmosphere at the same time. Yes, I'm a girl. No, I don't think the world is coming to an end in 2012. At least, I hope it won't. No, I can't solve Global Warming, I'm a writer, I'm not God! *kudos to anyone who caught the veiled movie reference!* Anyway, thanks for the awesome reviews from you guys, it's really inspiring me to write more!**

**As always, R&R makes me a happy clam!**

**Oh, and this is a short chapter, but I wanted this to mostly be about the fight.**

Chapter Four

_Griffin_

The sun was well over the horizon at Griffin's lair, when he awoke, mercifully under his own will, and alone. The girl had obviously taken his 'don't wake me up early' warning to heart—a good thing, too, as he was starving, and wanted to eat before showing Jack just how little she actually knew about fighting. True, he didn't know just how much (or what kind of) training she'd had, and he tended to be rather over-confident in his own abilities, but he was positive that she wouldn't be able to best him when it came to fighting.

An hour later, it was nearing noon, and Griffin was sitting on his couch, playing one of his shoot-'em-up video games. He was wondering where the hell the girl was, when he heard the _whoosh_ of an incoming Jumper. "You're late," he said, without looking up—he was just about to break his high score.

"What do you mean?" asked a decidedly masculine voice, and Griffin glanced up—realizing his mistake, he hurriedly looked back at the TV, but it was too late. The momentary lapse in concentration had cost him the game. He sighed, tossing his controller to the ground.

"Oh, it's you."

"Who else would it be?" David asked; as far as he was aware, no one but him and Griffin had the lair as a Jump-spot.

Yet another soft pop filled the air, as Jack finally Jumped to the lair for her 'lesson'—not that she thought she was about to be taught anything. She rather thought she was about to be the teacher. She was also dressed much more appropriately than she had been the night before—she wore a pair of hip hugging jeans and a white T-shirt, that showed off a lot less of her skin. "Her," Griffin replied, pointing—he was barely able to keep from laughing at the dumb look of shock now etched across David's face. There was a similar look on Jack's, and Griffin couldn't help the amused smirk sliding across his features.

"David, this is Jack; Jack, this is David. You ever read Marvel Team Up?" he asked suddenly, looking at Jack. The young woman shook her head, looking rather confused. "Well, David and I 'ave temporarily teamed up to fight th' Paladins." David was chuckling, but Jack was still lost. Griffin shook his head. "Never mind."

"Isn't Jack a boy's name?" David shot at her, as though just making the connection. Jack sighed, shaking her head.

"It's short for Jacklynn," she muttered, her voice almost a growl. Griffin really did laugh this time, as he grabbed two quarter staffs, throwing one to Jack. "Hope you're ready for an ass kickin', kid."

"I'm not a kid!" Jack shouted, but he'd already Jumped. She Jumped through his Jumpscar, and David followed, curious as to how this would turn out.

He found out soon enough. The instant Jack Jumped, something hard and fast hit her in the back of the knees, and she fell hard into the sand, her staff flying from her grip. "Hey, that was a cheap shot!"

"Do you think the Paladins are gonna be worried about fightin' fair, kid?" Griffin asked, taunting her.

"Stop calling me a kid!"

"Then get up and stop acting like one!"

Jack snapped. She lunged for her staff and Jumped behind Griffin, swinging her staff at his head—but before it could connect, Griffin's staff came up and blocked it. He turned around, smirking. "Gotta be quicker than that."

_C'mon, Jack, keep it together,_ she thought, taking a deep breath and calming herself down. Before she knew it, Griffin's staff was moving, and it was taking every ounce of strength and speed Jack possessed to keep from getting several broken ribs. Griffin was vicious, relentless, and didn't seem to be tiring at all. Jack, however, was losing energy quickly. In a flurry of moves (of which Jack only managed to block about half), Griffin knocked the staff from her hands and pushed her down, so she landed on her back, sprawled in spread-eagle fashion, with the head of his staff pointing at her chest. Letting her head fall back against the sand, Jack sighed, trying not to wince in pain. She was going to be one big bruise tomorrow.

Griffin knelt beside her, though he still wasn't making eye contact. "Not bad, kid, but you'll have to be a whole lot better than that if you want to fight the Paladins and survive." Jack couldn't even muster up the energy to protest him calling her a kid again; she simply nodded. If he had a sympathetic bone in his body, it was voicing it's opinions, and Griffin's look softened slightly. "You want some ice and water?" he asked; Jack nodded again, though even that small movement sent ripples of pain traveling down her body. The older man stood and held out his hand; it took effort, but Jack managed to lift an arm to take it. She pinned the strange sensation traversing her spine at the contact to further bruising, as Griffin helped pull her up.

"Impressive," David said, following the two back into the lair.


End file.
